


A Grand Day Out

by swtalmnd



Series: Tea and Knitting [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Community: inceptiversary, Curtain Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, I have no regrets, M/M, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 04:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Arthur is coaxed into a day off, and they end up shopping at a fascinating new herb and plant shop -- The Serpent's Garden.





	A Grand Day Out

**Author's Note:**

> It's Inceptiversary Curtain & Domestic Fic week! So of course I had to do an ultra-domestic addition to this AU, because I have such a soft, squishy spot for Arthur's tea shop and Eames' knitting and their beautiful love. And shopping.
> 
> It's a Good Omens crossover because, well, why not?

"This is the place," said Eames, grinning as he led Arthur away from the Tube stop. "Book shop first, or more herbs and things?"

"I should call Tadashi first," said Arthur, failing to untangle his hand with Eames' enough to get his phone out. "They might have questions."

"Tadashi will call you if they have questions," said Eames, for approximately the billionth time since that morning. "This is our last stop before dinner, don't make me confiscate your mobile."

Arthur huffed but relented, looking only a little put out. They'd both dressed down today, jeans and sweaters in the crisp spring air, though Arthur had his ribcage shirt from Alexander McQueen hiding under his bat argyle sweater. "Herb shop, then. That way we'll be less tempted to go over budget after books."

Eames chuckled. "Yelp suggests it's more a looking sort of shop, anyway," he said, holding the door of The Serpent's Garden for Arthur to precede him. 

They'd already done a great deal of shopping for this and that, mostly tea but also herbs and spices and a few oddities for Nash as well. Everything mostly fit in Eames' big satchel, given that he'd emptied it of all but one pair of socks-in-progress for the occasion, and Arthur was carrying the rest in a fancy shopping bag he'd bought from the last shop they visited.

"Oh, I love book shops that let you browse," said Arthur, enchanted. "Definitely better to do this first, then. Business before pleasure."

"Nonsense," said the man slouched next to the register, wearing sunglasses even in the dim, cool room. "Pleasure is always the right choice."

Eames chuckled. "Fortunately for Arthur, he takes great pleasure in his business. Are you the proprietor?"

"I'm Crowley," he said, shifting slinkily so he was leaning in an entirely new way without offering a hand to shake. "I take it you're interested in something special? Plant, potion, or poison?"

Arthur chuckled. "I'd never poison good tea," he replied. "I'm Arthur Levine, I own a tea shop." He passed Crowley a business card, which the man made vanish with a magician-worthy snap of his fingers. "I'm looking for entirely edible things that will make interesting tisanes."

"Oh, you should be talking to, yes, there you are, angel," said Crowley, smiling as another man, fussy and white-haired and smiling, came in holding two cups from the cafe they'd passed on their way here. "This one makes fancy teas, he wants interesting edible herbs for steeping."

"Oh, I do love a good tisane," said the man. He smiled warmly, cradling his cup. "I'm Mr. Fell, from next door."

"Have we missed your hours?" said Eames, feeling a soft disappointment. "We were hoping to have a look around before our dinner reservations. I do love to browse through old book shops."

"Sadly I don't think a tea that smelled like old books would be quite what one hoped for," said Arthur with a chuckle. "I'm Arthur, and this is my Eames. He knits."

"And I carry your shopping," said Eames, teasingly fond as he liberated the second bag as well. "You three talk, I'm going to look at plants I couldn't possibly keep alive." He paused, then held his hand out. "And you, give me your phone. If Tadashi calls, I'll come find you."

Arthur huffed but handed it over, shoulders finally relaxing that last tiny bit as Fell engaged him in a conversation about flavors people had forgotten were delicious. Arthur was entirely in his element.

Eames let the time tick by unnoticed while he looked through winding rooms of beautiful greenery and fragrant blossoms, most of them things he couldn't have identified for the life of him. He breathed in the scents and let it all calm him, while acknowledging that this was a talent he didn't possess, and he'd do better just looking rather than giving in to that acquisitive desire in his heart.

"The trick is to talk to them," said Crowley, nearly startling Eames out of his skin where he'd been admiring a huge monstera plant.

Eames chuckled uneasily. "They're impressively healthy," he said, "so I guess you'd know." He looked more closely, but there wasn't a wilted stem or leaf spot in sight anywhere. "I'm not sure I've ever seen a shop this lush before."

"I like to put the fear of me in them," said Crowley, with a disconcertingly wide smile.

Eames slid his eyes away, looking instead over at the counter where Fell was pulling down jars and boxes for Arthur to examine, both of them practically glowing with happiness. "Looks like they're getting on."

Crowley slouched against a planter that somehow didn't even wobble under the weight. "He's far too good for me, my angel."

"That's a sentiment I understand all too well," said Eames, feeling all gooey inside now over his Arthur.

"Crowley, I don't know how to use this infernal thing," called Fell. "He wants a running total."

"Duty calls, I guess," said Crowley, shoving off and swaggering up to the front, getting into his lover's space in a way that melted Eames' heart even more rather than putting him off.

Eames took the opportunity to snuggle up to Arthur. "What's the really expensive thing he wants and hasn't had you weigh out yet?"

"Eames," said Arthur, unable to make himself look at all chastising.

"Oh, there's a few things, really. Did you want to do separate, um, things?" Fell flapped his hands adorably.

"I've got the money bits, angel, you just take care of... Is that what I think it is?" Crowley picked up a bag full of withered flower petals that were far whiter than Eames expected from anything dried. "You've got more?"

"Of course we do," said Fell, giving him a very flirty look. "I did use up a cupful making wine a while back, however. It ought to be ready by now."

"Oh, you are so perfect, my angel," said Crowley with the most loving smile. It transformed his face completely, the way he looked at Fell. "All right, this one's on the house, but only if you save some for when we come in next week."

"Deal," said Eames, taking the bag and tucking it away before Arthur could protest. "He'll pay for all of that, and I'll get three of the things he's been waffling over. If that will leave enough for our next trip, darling?"

Arthur laughed. "Yes, all right, it will." He turned to Fell and they got back onto their discussion, ending up with three small packets which, upon Eames presenting his card, turned out to cost more than the rest combined.

"Do you take phone orders?" asked Eames curiously.

"Oh, no, terribly old-fashioned, me," said Crowley, glancing over at where Arthur and Fell were already back off in their own little world. "You'll have to bring him back, I'm afraid."

Eames chuckled. "I suppose I can manage that," he agreed. He went over to Arthur and interrupted shamelessly. "Mr. Fell, is there any way we can impose upon you for a quick browse around your beautiful shop before our dinner reservations? We haven't any budget left today, but I have been dying to see it in person."

"Just browsing, you say? Well, I suppose we could. Coming, dear?" Mr. Fell slipped out from behind the counter, its former disarray neatened at some point when Eames was busy paying.

"Of course, angel. People know where to find me, should they need me," replied Crowley, slinking along after the three of them.

"Dinner reservations, did he say?" babbled Fell happily, drawing Eames forward into a conversation about food and restaurants and strange cuisines that fit right in with their day off and promised to lure Arthur into more days like it. Fell and Crowley might become future friends or they might just be new acquaintances, but for now, they were another delightful part of a grand day out.

A. Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop was everything Eames had been hoping for, with its wandering little rooms and strange displays and rare finds. Nothing there really needed to go home with them, but everything was delightful to page through and exclaim over. Eames ended up chatting with Fell about first editions and his own inherited collection, and somehow he found himself promising to bring a couple of them by. Arthur ended up off in some other corner chatting with Crowley about clothing, and the virtue of a mostly monochromatic wardrobe.

Arthur's phone stayed blissfully silent right up until they were taking their leave, and it took Eames a moment to remember he'd confiscated it and hand it over.

"Tadashi?" said Arthur, already sounding tense. "What's wrong- oh. Right, you're already closed. How did everything go?"

Eames smiled and gently stroked Arthur's shoulders, kissing the cheek away from the phone before he went to hail a cab. He got Arthur bundled in and them on the way to Architect before he bothered to interrupt.

"I'm sure they'll tell you tomorrow, love," said Eames. "Let them go home, they've had a long day."

Arthur shot him a glare, but relented immediately. "You should finish up and go home," he said. "Yeah, it's Eames' idea, but he's not wrong. Go on, just make sure you put, right, the drop safe. And take the morning off, I can run things alone until the lunch rush." There was another long pause and then Arthur said warmly, "Thanks, Tadashi. I couldn't have done it without you, and we got some great stuff today. All right, bye."

He hung up and turned to Eames. "There were a few people mad at the lack of Arthur, but most of the regulars were supportive. Apparently I'll be putting the fear of me in a couple of people tomorrow, but otherwise it was a pretty normal day, if longer than they're used to."

"You trained them well," said Eames, kissing Arthur softly. "I'll make you a nice breakfast tomorrow and skip the gym, come down and knit all day with you."

Arthur lit up, which warmed Eames to his toes, to be so wanted. "Really? Thank you."

"You're always welcome to more of me, my darling." Eames kissed him sweetly, passing bags to Arthur while he got the cab paid for and then following him into the restaurant. He'd been looking forward to the floral menu, especially since Nash kept teasing them with hints whenever he came by for ingredients and tea.

"We had a reservation mix-up," said Nash, coming out when they had stopped, confused, in a full dining room. "One of our late seatings came early, so it's the Chef's table for you two."

"I'm not complaining," said Arthur, beaming. "We got you some interesting things, anyway. We hit a bunch of suppliers today."

Nash grinned, relaxing as much as he ever did at work. "Awesome. Let's get in back, I've got a lot to do with this menu. I'll take a break between seatings to chat and cut you guys a check."

"Whatever works," said Arthur. "Next week, come in for a tasting at Specificity, too. I got some really interesting stuff, especially at that last place, the new one."

Nash grinned. "I will, yeah. Thursday afternoon, maybe?"

"Sounds good." They'd gotten seated while they chatted. One of the servers brought them their aperitifs and amuse bouche, and with a clap on the shoulder from Nash, the meal was begun.

The flavors were as varied as the flowers of the world, and Nash had found some amazing ingredients to work with, elevating the florals rather than drowning or overpowering them. From dandelion wine marinade to tulip-scented foam, every dish was unusual and fascinating and impossible to completely identify, though Nash dropped hints here and there, especially when Arthur guessed something right. The meal finished off with Arthur's own floral tea mix, and a short chat with Nash over his share of the ingredients. Arthur had been diligent about the receipts, so it was simple enough for Architect to reimburse Specificity, and then they let Nash get back to his cooking and took their leave out.

Eames was bemused to see their new friends just getting out of the most gorgeous vintage Bentley. "It's a miracle you two got a table," said Eames. "Apparently someone came early and shunted us to the Chef's table."

"They do a Chef's table?" said Fell, eyes wide.

Arthur shook his head, elbowing Eames in the side. "Not normally, just for a few of Nash's friends." He looked sheepish but also proud. "Mostly us, honestly."

"Nash and Arthur love to chat about flavors, and we're very undemanding of his attention," said Eames. "We do have special dinners sometimes. Next time there's something to celebrate, we'll have see about scheduling another one."

Arthur chuckled. "You won't hear any argument from me. Anyway, enjoy it, the flowers are exquisite this time. Oh! And it's my tea, the last course. The one Eames was telling you about. Architect buys it in tins from Specificity."

"That sounds mutually beneficial," said Crowley, lounging against his car with a little smile quirking up his mouth. "Come on, angel. I'm hungry as an imp."

Fell snorted delicately. "Hardly," he said, but he said his awkward goodbyes and let Crowley lead him off into the restaurant.

"I'd warn him about getting a parking ticket, but I'm not sure anyone would dare with this beauty," said Eames with a smile. He went around the front of the Bentley to find them a cab, snuggling up to Arthur in the back seat without a care in the world.

"Should we try something when we get home?" asked Arthur, holding the shopping bag in his lap rather possessively.

"Nah, you'll ply me with pots of new things tomorrow," said Eames. "I fancy that thing with the mint tonight. Clear out all the flowers and send us off to bed tingly."

Arthur laughed. "If you promise to do that thing with your tongue after," he teased, voice low and sensual, "you've got a deal."

Eames sealed it with a kiss, feeling a hum of contentment he never thought he'd have a chance at, before he'd met Arthur.


End file.
